


Beck and the Boss

by raspberriesnchocolate



Series: Mysterio the unhappy hero, aka Quentin Beck isn’t a super villain, just a grouch [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bark?, Bisexual Tony Stark, Confused Quentin Beck, Crushes, Dense!Quentin, Feelings, Good Guy Quentin Beck, Hero Quentin Beck, M/M, Pining, Quentony, Starkbeck, Tony Stark Feels, is that their ship name?, jealous!tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-18 15:02:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20641115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberriesnchocolate/pseuds/raspberriesnchocolate
Summary: Alternate timeline of “Queer Eye: Quentin Beck Edition” that begins after Chapter 3AKA the one where Tony and Quentin actually get together with a lot of bumps along the way because Quentin’s denser than a rock.(Takes place pre-FFH)





	1. Tony Stark is (probably) Not Obsessed

Tony was  _ not  _ obsessed with Quentin Beck.

He was being a good boss! He was concerned for his employee (his  _ favorite _ employee) and that was an admirable trait for a boss to have.

Granted; Pepper, Happy, and JARVIS were all on the fence about his unwavering focus on this one guy, but who were they to stop him?

Tony could admit that physically, maybe,  _ maybe  _ Q was his type. He had nice enough bone structure, really,  _ really  _ soft looking hair, was fit-ish, and was generally a good-looking guy (who happened to be tall enough to rest his chin on Tony’s head, not that he  _ thought  _ about that, nope).

Quentin was just so unique compared to the people he had to deal with daily. There was something about him that just drew people in despite his aloof nature and uneducated mannerisms when it came to social interactions. Tony grew up knowing and wanting to be around people. He was an entertainer in his blood, Iron Man or not.

The thing about Quentin was that he was a quiet, more subtle sort of entertainer. The odd way he moved, like he was trying not to make too much noise, or the unconscious fiddling that he seemed to do all the time, be it with a pen in his hands, or rolling that old butterscotch sucker between his fingers, or how he’d put something between his lips and nibble on it. There was also the way he talked, the odd lilts of his voice that had hints of an accent when he went on angry rants (and maybe Tony was a sucker for accents, sue him).

Not to mention how grumpy he was! Tony was absolutely undeterred by every scathing remark and flat look shot his way, used to it from everyone. He couldn’t deny that he sometimes preened under Q’s attention, negative as it was. He had seen Quentin smile around twice, and both times, it had barely been a smirk.

Tony hummed happily, thinking back to the car ride after Q’s haircut, when the man’s lips had upturned in the slightest way.

“Sir, Mr. Beck has entered the break room.” JARVIS intoned. Tony had ordered him to notify him whenever Quentin left his lab to go somewhere other than the bathroom.

“Look at his  _ hair,  _ J!” Tony almost crooned at the footage of Quentin stalking down a hallway, ungelled hair ruffled and bouncy and soft-looking and  _ maybe  _ Tony was a little jealous.

Tony grinned at the sight of Quentin pausing in front of the door and pushing a hand through that luxurious hair to settle it down.

He switched to footage from the inside of the breakroom, watching Quentin enter quietly and stiffly. The man’s eyes were closed as he breathed in the smell of coffee. Tony made a mental note of that.

_ “Oh, hi, Beck!”  _ Tony stiffened, leaning forward to see a short blonde woman bounce over to Quentin.

“Who the hell-” Tony squinted at the screen. J answered for him, telling him that it was that Susie woman who was infatuated with Quentin.

_ “Susie,”  _ Quentin greeted back. Tony felt his jaw clench. It took  _ weeks  _ for Q to call him by his first name, and this lady that barely knew him had the right?

The only comfort was seeing just how uncomfortable Quentin seemed, by the stiff position of his shoulders to the tight grip he had on his mug.

He saw Susie slowly slide towards Quentin, laughing loudly at nothing and batting her eyelashes up at the grouch. Why wasn’t Quentin moving away? He was just tense and frozen.

  
He wasn’t  _ into  _ her, was he? Tony couldn’t tell what Quentin’s face looked like from this angle, and he sorely hoped that he was frowning.

The more they interacted, the more Tony realized how perfect Susie seemed to be. She was pretty, probably smart considering she worked for  _ him,  _ and could hold a conversation without the other having to say much. She was also an even  _ better  _ height for Quentin to tuck into his chest and rest his chin on her head. Tony hated it.

“Come  _ on,  _ Q, what are you  _ doing?”  _ Tony groused out, putting his hands on the sides of his head. 

_ “Wow, I really like your sweater. Is it new?”  _ Susie asked, chirpy voice grating on Tony’s nerves.

Quentin took a few seconds to respond. Susie suddenly looked awestruck, and Tony almost growled aloud, thinking that she had seen Quentin smile, when he had only seen it twice.

_ “It’s a gift, actually. I like it too,”  _ Came the quiet answer, and Tony wished that he was in the breakroom to fling his arms all over Quentin in front of the woman who pined so  _ obviously  _ after him.

Finally, Quentin managed to extract himself from the room, leaving Susie staring after him like some sort of  _ stalker.  _ Tony hastily switched to see the footage of the hallway, smiling at the screen like a loon at the disgruntled look on Quentin’s face. So Q was uncomfortable with her attention, good to know.

Not that Tony cared.

Tony leaned back in his chair, heaving a sigh of relief. Good to know, indeed. A smug grin found its way on his face, knowing that Quentin never made that face after Tony dropped by. He didn’t give bland responses in a conversation, and plus, Tony had something that Susie probably didn’t.

He had  _ money,  _ and he wasn’t above using it to secure his place as Quentin’s best (and preferably  _ only)  _ friend.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Quentin narrowed his eyes. A box rested on his desk, complete with an obnoxious bow.

“What is this, Tony?” He asked the man next to him. Tony’s short frame damn-near vibrated with excitement.

“Just  _ open  _ it!” He said excitedly. Quentin sighed and approached it, untying the bow slowly and lifting the top off of the box.

A ring and two earrings lay inside, along with an ornate necklace.

“My ears aren’t pierced, Tony.”

Tony huffed. “It’s for your mom, or any other special lady in your life. Or guy, actually.”

Quentin stiffened, as if he had only just remembered the necklace that Tony had given his mother.

“She liked it,” He said awkwardly. Tony tilted his head.

“The necklace. She liked it.” He clarified, thinking about how careful his mother had been with the jewelry.

“Oh, good. Did it surprise you?” Tony was caught off guard when Quentin huffed and looked down at the necklace.

Whatever quip Tony was going to say was abruptly shut down by the smile that spread on Quentin’s face. The engineer’s stern face lightened, and his lips turned up in a real smile, flashing his teeth.

Tony felt himself melt a little bit. Just when he thought he composed himself, Quentin turned from where he was looking down at the necklace, exposing the left side of his face and murdering Tony and his eyes with the full force of his smile, along with-

Oh no.

Tony swore he was close to fainting, looking at the left side of Quentin’s face.

He had a  _ dimple.  _ Quentin had a goddamned  _ dimple  _ and Tony couldn’t handle it.

“Yes, it did. Thank you, Tony. Mutter-  _ my mother  _ appreciated it a lot.”

Tony couldn’t breathe. Quentin was beaming down at him (gosh Q was tall) with a smile that reached his eyes and a dimple perfectly placed on his cheek and had said the word  _ mother  _ in fuckin’  _ German. _

“It’s no problem,” He forced out.

Quentin shook his head, radiant smile disappearing, and Tony felt his knees regain their strength.

“For you, it wouldn’t be,” Quentin mused, and even without the smile, Tony knew that Quentin was happy, or at least content.

Tony’s mouth worked faster than his brain. “Was that German?”

Quentin sighed. “Yes. Gonna tease me for the accent?” There was an almost imperceptible edge to Quentin’s voice there, and Tony could just sense bad memories.

“No!” He immediately hastened to reply, not wanting Quentin’s good mood to evaporate. “It’s cute.”

The hard look in Quentin’s eyes disappeared, replaced by shock and a little bit of embarrassment.

“It is not cute,” He denied, a bit of pink appearing on his cheeks.

Tony mentally sighed in relief, happy to banter. “It really is, Q. I’d pinch your cheeks if I could.”

Quentin turned his face to hide his embarrassed blush. “German is an old, strong, harsh language. It is not  _ cute. _ ”

Tony couldn’t help teasing him more. “It’s cute on  _ you _ .”

Quentin scowled and picked up a rolled up lab coat to hurl at Tony’s head. Tony broke out into laughter, muffled by the coat.

He allowed his blood to stop racing, content to just live in the moment with his friend.

  
  
  
  
  


“J, pull up the security footage from Q’s lab from today.” Tony was alone in his lab, looking at a big screen. He took a deep breath and tensed, waiting to see Quentin and his rare and radiant smile.

There!

Tony melted, going weak in the knees. He created a slo-mo clip of Quentin breaking out into a grin, saving it unrepentantly.

He watched the footage, cranking up his speakers to hear Quentin say  _ Mutter. _

Tony looked down at his knees, wondering why they were so weak. His cheeks felt hot and his smile was dopey and big. He looked at Quentin's smile, unable to deny how much happiness the sight brought him.

  
So  _ maybe  _ Tony  was a little obsessed with Quentin Beck.


	2. Berlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony might be a little jealous.

Quentin sighed, shoulders relaxing in pride as he stepped back to survey his work. 

Steps sounded behind him. Quentin assumed it was Tony and waited for whatever rant the man had today. He didn’t turn to look until he heard a soft gasp, because Tony didn’t gasp at anything.

“Susie?” He was surprised, and a little bit uncomfortable, too. The woman had somehow figured his lab number and had come to visit him? No, maybe she was here to deliver a message or something.

“Good morning, Beck!” Susie greeted, walking in further to the lab to look closer at the holograms. Right now, they were displaying Berlin, and Quentin felt put out, unhappy that Susie had seen his special place before someone he actually cared about.

Quentin reached around where Susie was gawking to turn off the machine, not noticing how Susie reacted to the proximity.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Quentin didn’t greet her back. He just wanted her out of his lab.

“Well, I just- I finished early and thought you could use some company. You seem so lonely all the time…” Quentin narrowed his eyes. Tony had said the exact same thing, but somehow, it sounded worse coming from Susie.

“I’m not lonely, Susie.”

Susie flushed. “Well, not right now, ‘cuz I’m with you!” She laughed after the weak punchline, and Quentin wondered if Tony would fire him for tossing a woman out the window.

Quentin tried to smile politely. “I’m not always by myself when I’m working, even if my lab-mates are absent.” His voice had an edge, and his accent peeked through, roughening up the sentence.

Whatever the sentence’s effect was supposed to be, Susie’s reaction was the opposite. It seemed that hearing Quentin’s accent thrilled her.

“O-oh. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.” She seemed to expect Quentin to reassure her that no, she didn’t offend him. Quentin stayed quiet.

“Well, what are you working on, then, Quen- Beck?” Quentin felt a vein near his eye tick. Before he could give an answer, Susie turned to face him fully, staring up at him as if trying to emphasize how buggy her blue eyes were.

“Say, can I call you Quentin? You’ve been calling me Susie for days, now… I think we should both be on first-name basis, right-” 

“-Right, well,  _ I  _ don’t. Now shoo, I need to talk to Quentin.” Tony suddenly burst in from nowhere, sauntering over and waving his hand at Susie.

Susie gaped. Quentin, through the haze of relief that came with Tony’s interjection, abruptly realized that not every employee had actually met Tony. Before he had met him, Quentin had never even glimpsed the hero in real life.

“Mr. Stark, what are you doing here?” Susie managed to ask, looking completely awestruck.

Tony just waved her away again, jerking his head at Quentin. “I’m here to talk to  _ Quentin.  _ Real personal stuff, too. Bye.”

Susie awkwardly walked out, shooting confused glances at the pair as she went.

Quentin turned to Tony. “Your timing is suspicious.”

Tony huffed. “That’s not as suspicious as the fact that Susie was  _ in  _ your lab. You two got together and you didn’t let me know?”

Quentin sputtered. “I’m not- we’re not- she makes me  _ uncomfortable!” _

Maybe he was imagining it, but Tony’s shoulders almost seemed to sag in relief at his confirmation.

Tony beamed at the state of his desk. It was neat and orderly, but most importantly, the checklist that Quentin had been updating for days was finally done. And wasn’t it  _ so  _ like Quentin to keep a checklist?

“You’ve finished with your secret project, then?”

Quentin huffed. “It’s not much of a secret when you seem to check the security cameras in my lab everyday.”

Tony laughed, patting Quentin’s shoulder. “Don’t be silly, Q, I don’t check them  _ every  _ day.”

Quentin rolled his eyes, then chewed his lip, something he didn’t seem to even be aware of. Tony’s eyes tracked the movement, and he quickly looked away before he could let out an ‘aww!’

“Would you like to see? I had planned on you being the first... well, it doesn’t matter much, now.”

Tony almost seethed, feeling his stomach coil in jealousy. Susie had taken away his well-earned spot as first viewer. Maybe he could find some reason to dock her pay later or something?

“Show me.” He all but demanded. Quentin’s lips twitched, and he quickly turned on his holograms.

Tony couldn’t help his jaw dropping when he was suddenly transported to Berlin. His eyes, ears, and even his nose all told him that the sight in front of him was real. The air around him felt colder, crisper. He let out a breath in surprise.

“Geez, Q… This is- wow.” He said, turning around to see that the illusion extended to all sides. The details were impeccable. The clouds moved slowly, leaves on trees rustled, and Tony could pick out every crack and crevice in the pebbled walkway below him.

For all the beauty that Berlin held, when Tony turned to see the proud and content expression on Quentin’s face, his breath was truly stolen.

The taller of the two stood, hands shoved in his pockets as he surveyed his creation. His lips curled in a small but true smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes, and his eyelids were low with contentment.

Tony swallowed and turned back to Berlin.

“Berlin, huh. You’ve been?” He said, wondering how his voice carried like he was really in an open street and not a lab indoors.

Quentin shook his head. “No, but Mutter always told me it was somewhere she liked when I was growing up. I’ll go, one day. I’ll take her, too.”

Tony melted a bit at the mama’s boy. He hadn’t tried to fix the German this time, too. That accent and smile at the same time should be classified as a weapon.

“I can take you,” he blurted out, trying to feign nonchalance. “We could probably get there by sunset. I’ve got fast planes.”

Quentin just stared for a moment, brows furrowing. “Thank you, but that’s- well, that’s pretty short notice.”

After a few beats of silence, he spoke up again, quieter this time. “You’d go through the trouble? Don’t you-you’re busy, aren’t you?”

Tony shrugged. “I’m an expert on blowing off important events, Q, don’t think about it too hard. Besides, Berlin’s supposed to be lovely this time of year, I hear. What do you say, wanna leave now?”

Quentin quickly shook his head. “Uh, no, no. When I go, I’ll be a little more prepared.”

Tony shrugged. “Offer’s open anytime, then. Just say the words, and you’ll be in Berlin.”

Quentin’s lips quirked in a tiny smile before turning away.

“Anyway,” he started, “if you haven’t noticed, it’s not just sight that’s tricked by my machines.”

Tony nodded, leaning in a bit to watch as Quentin went on a passionate rant about his invention and the applications. His voice became stronger, bolder. Tony loved it when Beck was confident.

Quentin was animated, his words clear and crisp and sparking intrigue with every smooth syllable. His hands waved around as he gestured to the sight around him.

“We could use it to trap criminals, make them think they’re in a dead end. Important artifacts that need to be hidden for security? Make it so they almost don’t exist! The possibilities…”

Tony held his breath when Quentin’s voice softened.

“People who can’t afford to go places, people in hospitals who can’t leave… they can see whatever they want. Nowadays, it’s easy to make people believe.”

There was something in his tone, in the earnestness in his expression that truly took Tony’s breath away.

It was then that he realized that whatever crush he had on Quentin had a whole lot more to it than just looks.

Quentin turned to him then, with an expectant expression. Tony grinned at him. “This is fantastic, Q.”

Quentin puffed up, and Tony made a mental note that the compliments that Quentin  _ really  _ needed were for his work. Tony was the same when he was a kid in his dad’s lab.

Tony took a step, looking around closer. “Quick question, where’s all the people?”

Quentin crossed his arms. “I hadn’t any need or want for people to be around.”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, you wouldn’t. But that begs the question, how well executed would people be, in your light-show?”

Quentin rolled his eyes before looking thoughtful. “At the moment, I cannot have interactions more complex than moving when touched and moving out of the way of things… sort of like an NPC in a video-game.”

Tony scoffed. “Nerd…” Quentin was unfazed, not acknowledging the quip in favor of rubbing his chin in thought.

Tony straightened up abruptly, thankful for his quick brain. He could work  _ with  _ Quentin to create some new software!

“Let’s work together! I’m- not to toot my own horn or anything- I’m  _ pretty  _ good with AI software. Can you imagine an AI hologram? Oh, JARVIS’ll love this! Oh, I should make an AI of myself to answer my calls for me when I don’t feel like it, what do you think, Q?”

Quentin blinked, taking a moment to absorb the information.

“It’s possible,” he finally said, but his eyes widened a bit in that creepy/endearing way, so Tony knew he had him.

And wasn’t that a nice phrase? Tony has Quentin.

  
Sneaking a glance towards the tall man, Tony sighed. With no effort at all, Quentin had Tony, too.

Tony spent a few more minutes looking around the holographic Berlin, firing question after question at Quentin.

Before he left, he bit his lip before summoning up his hero’s courage.

“Hey, Q.”

“Yes?”

Tony chewed his lip some more before looking Quentin in the eye.

“Do you really not like Susie?”

Quentin hesitated, and Tony felt his heart sink.    
  


“I don’t like her attention on me. It makes me uncomfortable.” Tony breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Why?” Quentin asked. Tony blinked.

“I wanted to know if the haircut was working.” He lied, before leaving without a glance back.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Quentin stared after Tony, pondering the question.

It was true, after all. He didn’t like Susie or the attention she bestowed upon him. It felt odd, and it was entirely unwanted.

Besides, he didn’t have time for relationships.

_ Uh, yeah, you do.  _ Tony’s voice said in his head.

Quentin frowned. Okay, maybe he did.

His fingers stilled from where they were about to switch off his machinery.

What about Susie did he not like? Quentin tried to list out her bad qualities.

She was talkative, was somewhat rude and prying at some points, didn’t respect Quentin’s personal space, and had a tendency to interrupt him. She had big, wide, puppy eyes and used her hands to talk.

Quentin winced. These were all qualities that he didn’t like on her.

Tony’s face drifted into his head, and he felt his cheeks warm.

These were all qualities he  _ liked  _ on Tony.

But Tony had brown eyes. Tony had brown eyes that could be warm and dark like freshly brewed coffee. Tony had brown eyes that reflected the light around them like water at night. 

Quentin huffed, closing his eyes. Did he like men? Did he like women? He tried to think back to his last attraction. He couldn’t.

Quentin’s hands fumbled with his sweater (the green one, the first one Tony gave him, his  _ favorite)  _ as he pondered his sexuality.

After a few moments, Quentin realized that he didn’t like men or women exactly, only that he liked individuals. 

And the individual he  _ liked  _ happened to be  _ Tony. _

_ Shit,  _ he thought,  _ I like Tony. _

Quentin let out a strangled groan and placed his head in his hands.

_ I like Tony! _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan to have two-ish more parts to this, also, their initials spell out Q-T and honestly that's all that's keeping me going.


	3. Mutter, Mutter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily notices a lot more than Quentin realizes. It’s probably because of how dense he is.

The days following Quentin’s revelation were filled with moments where he stared too long at his shorter friend.

Was it just because he acknowledged that he liked Tony, or was the man becoming… _ clingy? _

Tony had been coming everyday for the past four days, and Quentin found himself flustered, more often than not. Things that he had never acknowledged before suddenly stuck in his mind for hours, little, inconsequential things like Tony grasping his shoulder or tapping his nose or crooning about his bone structure of all things.

It was _ very _inconvenient.

Tony, on the other hand, was enjoying his time immensely. Pepper had been less than impressed when he told her that he needed the next week or so off. She refused to grant him an indefinite amount of time, which Tony could understand.

Tony wondered if he was just looking too far into it, but Quentin seemed far more receptive to his teasing than normal. Knowing how often he overthought things, Tony figured he was just looking for reactions to mentally compare them to the lacklustre reactions that Quentin gave _ Susie. _

He never went through with docking her pay, realizing that that might be a bit overkill.

Still, seeing the embarrassed flush creep up Quentin’s neck was a treat, and Tony decided that he had the right to indulge himself.

So the teasing persisted.

On the last Wednesday of the month, Quentin surprised Tony by hanging up his coat at around five in the afternoon.

“You’re early,” He accused. Quentin huffed. 

“I have somewhere to be.”

Tony let out a groan as Quentin bustled around the lab, packing up his part of the work. As he grabbed his keys, Tony made up his mind, heading to the door as well.

The two walked in silence for a few moments before Tony broke it. “So where’re we headed?”

Quentin gave him a confused glance. “There is no _ we. _I’m going alone.”

Tony pouted and complained, drawing a few looks from employees they passed, especially when they reached the exit of the building. Tony happily followed Quentin to his car, happy to know how shallow the man’s resolve was.

“So, what’s our excursion, Q?” He asked, watching Quentin fumble with the keys to his Honda.

Quentin gave a lacklustre huff, glaring down at Tony. “Don’t you have things to do?” Without waiting for an answer, Quentin got into the car.

Tony grinned when, after a few seconds, the door to the passenger’s side unlocked with a small click.

He enthusiastically clambered in, opening the glove compartment immediately and snooping around.

“I haven’t been in a Honda in like, _ ages,” _He enthused, rifling through the papers in the glove compartment. Quentin’s long-fingered (damn!) hand snatched an envelope from the stack.

Quentin slid the check into his pocket.

“I’m going to have to ask you to behave,” Quentin said, putting his arm around the passenger seat to drive in reverse. Tony felt a little hot under the collar at the sight.

“I’m not a dog,” he said instead, pouting and crossing his arms.

Quentin sighed. “It would have been easier to explain if I brought a dog, anyway.”

Tony paused at the thought of Quentin and a dog, thinking that he probably wouldn’t know how to hold it.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

Quentin didn’t take his eyes off the road. “Once a month, I give a check to my parents. We’re going to my parents’ house.”

Tony felt his heart warm at the admission. Quentin didn’t realize how endearing he was. 

“So _ that’s _what you spend your paycheck on!” He realized, pointing an accusatory finger at Quentin.

Quentin glanced at it and nodded.

The rest of the car ride involved Tony prying to learn about Quentin’s family. They were German, and moved from Berlin to New York for their son. His mother sounded like a real gem, but Quentin was tight-lipped about his father. Tony could relate.

Finally, they arrived in a little suburb with relatively small houses lining the road.

Quentin moved to get out of the car, Tony following suit.

Before Quentin knocked on the door, he hesitated and looked at Tony.

“My father… might not be very decent at the moment. Please don’t comment on it.”

Tony tilted his head, but before he could ask for clarification, Quentin knocked on the door.

Soft footsteps sounded before the door opened. A small woman appeared, and Tony could immediately see where Quentin’s lovely bone structure came from.

She beamed up at Quentin before noticing Tony next to him. 

“Oh! Hello, you must be Quentin’s new friend! He’s told me about you,”

Tony glanced at Quentin, and grinned when he saw the flush of red creeping up his neck.

“I’m Tony Stark, nice to meet you. I see where Quentin gets his good looks from!”

Quentin swatted at the back of Tony’s head while his mother giggled and waved away the compliment.

Suddenly, his mother stilled. “Tony Stark? Your new friend is Tony Stark? My dear, you didn’t tell me! Oh no, I’m in house clothes in front of Tony Stark-“

“You look fine, Mutter, don’t worry.” Quentin reassured her.

Tony felt his grin widen at the soft way Quentin addressed his mother.

Emily sidestepped to let them in, looking at the pair with a tilted head when Tony immediately spotted a picture of Quentin as a child.

“You’re adorable! Look at your grumpy little face!”

She was shocked to see Quentin not shy away from the touch that Tony initiated, even leaning in a few times to a pat on the back or shoulder.

Realization hit her suddenly, and a soft smile was on her face. Tony was what made Quentin warm, and…

Tony beamed at Quentin when he closed his eyes and blushed in embarrassment. He looked up at the taller man like he hung the moon and stars, like he was nothing but happy in this moment.

Emily was proud. Quentin made Tony warm as well, it seemed. Shock rippled through her frame when she saw it.

Quentin rolled his eyes good-naturedly at Tony, a smile blooming on his face at the enthusiastic response from a baby picture. His posture was relaxed, back not ramrod straight like it always was. A blush was on his cheeks, and stars were in his eyes, looking down at the billionaire.

_ Oh. _Emily felt joy bubble in her, joy only a mother could have. Her son was in love!

Well, that might be an exaggeration, but Quentin had never shown interest in anyone when he was younger. Emily could tell that the two had not gotten together, and she decided that if Quentin wanted something, it was her duty as a mother to help him get it.

“Mr. Stark, would you like something to eat? I am sure I could find something,” once she was sure she had both of their attentions, she continued, “Or Quentin could cook something for you.”

Tony whipped his head around at Quentin. “You can _cook?” _Thoughts of Quentin in an apron, frying something in a pan flooded his mind.

Quentin, predictably, turned red. “You _ can’t?” _He shot back.

The two puffed up, prepared for banter. Unfortunately, Quentin’s father stumbled into the room then, sleepily heading to the kitchen before noticing the two guests.

He gave a jerky nod to Quentin and blinked at Tony, trying to place where he had seen the man from.

Unconsciously, Quentin moved to stand slightly in front of Tony, protecting him from his father, as if Iron Man needed protection from a half-asleep middle-aged man. Tony noticed, and forcing down the smile building on his face, he immediately narrowed his eyes at Ernest.

“Tony Stark.” Ernest managed to say in his surprise. “My son has brought Tony Stark to my home.”

“Good afternoon,” Tony said, with an underlying edge to his voice. Quentin looked over his shoulder to give him a confused and warning look. Tony shrugged.

Ernest held his hand out to shake, and Quentin blinked in surprise when he realized he had moved to shield Tony from his father.

Tony gave him the quickest handshake he could, nostalgia filling his head at the sight and smell of a father that smelled of smoke and alcohol.

Quentin cut in, holding out the check to his father like a treat to a dog. Like a distraction. The man snatched it and grinned yellow teeth at the paper, complimenting his son at the number.

Quentin didn’t feel the same pride he used to, hearing the words he craved. He just wanted to leave.

“Tony, you can go to the car, now, just give me a few minutes.” Tony squashed down his pride, not wanting to get caught in a family spat. He gave a jaunty wave to Quentin’s mother before leaving and getting into the Honda. He would have to talk to Quentin about locking his doors, it was dangerous.

  
  
  


A few minutes passed, and Tony’s stupid brain started working fast. Was an argument happening? What if Quentin was being scolded like Tony had been by his own father? His leg started bouncing. He almost left the car, but decided not to, thinking how Quentin wouldn’t be happy. His fingers drummed against his thigh.

Quentin would be fine.

  
  
  


Quentin explained quietly that his project’s completion earned him a raise, and the man nodded before settling on the couch and turning on the TV.

Quentin made his way to the door, but his mother stopped him.

“Yes, Mutter?” He asked, grasping her hand.

Emily paused before smiling up at him, cupping his face. “A man like Tony will have men and women lining up for him, my dear.” Quentin jolted in confusion. 

“What?”

She smiled patiently and brought his hand up to kiss his knuckles. “You must tell him that you care for him. You will not be disappointed, he seemed enamored with you as well.”

Quentin flushed red, and with wide eyes, stuttered out, “I don’t. Mutter, I don’t care for- why would I care for Tony?”

Emily gave him a look, the same look Quentin gave Tony when he was being particularly dense. “Do not try to fool me, my dear, I know you. Goodbye, Quentin.” She herded him out the door. 

Quentin stared at the closed door in shock. His mother had just told him to- _ well, _and then kicked him out.

He made his way to his car in a daze.

“Thank God, Q, I thought you must’ve died or something in there.” Was there actual relief in Tony’s voice?

“If I had died, I would blame you and then haunt you.” He answered dryly.

He started up the car, driving back to Stark Industries to drop off Tony.

“So, what took you in there?”

Quentin took a while to respond, looking at Tony and his wide brown eyes, feeling heat creep up his neck.

“Nothing,” He finally answered, looking back at the road. Tony didn’t pry.

His mother's voice echoed in his head.

_ You will not be disappointed. _

Would he? He glanced at Tony, who was playing around on his phone.

Tony had no reason to come along with him, right? Maybe he was-

Quentin felt his heart thump in his chest, biting the inside of his cheek.

_ He seemed enamored with you as well. _

  
  
  



	4. Quentin Beck is (probably) Not Obsessed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin decides to be brave. Tony doesn't want to be.

Quentin wondered where annoyance ended and infatuation began.

He found himself forgetting where he was in a string of code, too caught up in his own thoughts to finish. Thoughts that invaded his head whether or not he wanted them to.

Thoughts about Tony.

Quentin couldn’t confidently label his attraction to Tony without internalized hate rising up and squashing down any hope he could’ve had for the other to return his affections.

His father would always tell him he would have a wife, would always scoff and mock any sort of same-sex media. Quentin never cared much about anything other than his father’s opinion on  _ him,  _ but to know that the man would be disgusted by him gave him a soft ache in his chest.

His mother was happy for him, happy that he was interested in  _ anything,  _ that he could experience attraction at all. He wasn’t too concerned about her opinion on him, confident that she loved him no matter what.

That was assuming Quentin managed to have a relationship with Tony in the first place. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to ask or court anybody. He had been denied much media growing up, so he didn’t even have that for reference.

Tony was…

Tony was miles out of Quentin’s league, and everybody knew it. There were times where Quentin wished Tony had never wandered to his lab at all, if only to avoid the judgmental stares of his peers.

He had always thought that he didn’t care too much about what people thought of him, but one day, he had walked by the break room and accidentally witnessed gossip.

_ “I mean, not that I don’t think he’s cute, he’s just… I don’t know. Stark has much better choices than Beck, doesn’t he? Beck’s kinda weird.” _

_ “I know right? Stark could have anybody he wanted, and he chose Beck. A billionaire and some engineer working on a long-dead project… I don’t even think they’re happy together. I swear I’ve never seen Beck smile.” _

_ “Maybe it’s pity?” _

Quentin had hurried away, pretending that the words hadn’t affected them as much as they had.    
  


It was true, and that was probably why he hated it so much.

It was true, Quentin was leagues below Tony. He was working on a project that no one cared about, he was given so many expensive things that he never repaid, and Tony had so many other choices, choices much better than Quentin.

Quentin truly believed he was nothing special and that he had no  _ chance  _ with Tony, yet whenever he was around his mind continued shorting out and his heart kept stuttering and his cheeks kept flushing and he was still  _ infatuated. _

It was very inconvenient for his brain to start listing every single endearing quality Tony had when he needed to work.

Tony’s eyes that rolled whenever Quentin didn’t agree to his schemes, Tony’s gait that was faster than his to make up for how much shorter he was, Tony’s habit of tapping Quentin’s nose and grabbing his shoulders, the way he refused to be handed things, the way he called his machines by nicknames, the way-

Quentin hated that he could probably go on for hours about every single little thing, every little detail that pulled Quentin closer in.

With a sigh, he went back to working, trying in vain to slow his heart down.

  
  
  
  
  


Tony wasn’t sure where friendliness gave way to infatuation.

There were very few people that Tony genuinely cared for, despite how unrepentantly friendly he tried to be.

Quentin was one of those people.

He had begun inserting himself into the grumpy man’s life out of curiosity. Tony was astounded by how much Quentin absolutely  _ didn’t  _ care.

At some point, the curiosity faded into care, care into attraction, attraction into infatuation.

It scared him.

  
Tony was scared of many things, and commitment was one of them. Rejection came close.

Quentin had the power to prove his fears, so why would he ever take the risk?

That’s not to say that Tony didn’t think about it. Oh,  _ god  _ did he think about it!

He daydreamed of all sorts of things, of Quentin tugging him into his embrace and tucking his head onto Tony’s, of Quentin having to bend to kiss him, of mundane, tiny things like learning how he liked his coffee and what color was his favorite. 

He daydreamed of sleeping with him in the literal sense, of being able to roll over and hear Quentin breathe next to him, of being able to direct his hands to wrap around Tony so he could feel like he was protected, of Quentin not caring about the jarring light of his arc reactor, of Quentin being a grump when Tony woke him up with a flurry of kisses. Quentin’s hair must be incredibly messy in the morning, and a frown tugged at Tony’s lips with the knowledge that he’d never see it.

He didn’t think Quentin even liked guys. Tony couldn’t imagine Quentin liking anyone, though that may be more of a jealousy thing than a true observation.

Tony didn’t want to jeopardize his friendship with Quentin, so he would, for once, keep his big mouth shut and pretend that he didn’t feel himself melt at any and everything Quentin did.

Yeah, he could never tell Quentin that he liked him.

  
  
  
  
  


Quentin was going to tell Tony he liked him, if only to get his mother off his back.

He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he was going to do it, and he was going to do it soon.

At the moment, Tony was yammering about this or that, something about the Spider-Man that had appeared in the city, swinging here and there and stopping petty crime in its tracks.

Quentin bit the inside of his cheek, unabashedly observing Tony, resting his cheek in his palm as his eyes bored into the hero.

Tony’s hands went everywhere while he munched on some blueberries, ranting about the web-like samples that cleaning crews had sold online.

Tony was small, Quentin thought. He was muscled and fit, sure, but he was short and Quentin couldn’t help but wonder how well they’d fit together in a hug.

His cheeks warmed, and Quentin quickly moved his gaze. Where the hell had  _ that  _ come from?

Tony moved to pace next to Quentin’s desk. Quentin’s fingers slowed, unable to focus on the code he was supposed to type out.

Quentin wondered if the arc reactor was cold or warm. He had never really thought it abnormal, just accepting it as a part of Tony, and if he was attracted to Tony, the reactor was part of the package.

If Quentin stood, he could easily tuck Tony into his chest-

Okay, nerves were getting to him. He needed to focus.

_ I need to tell him I like him. _

“...” He opened and closed his mouth, unnoticed by Tony, who was rambling about how garish the new hero on the block’s outfit was.

Tony had turned to make a broad gesture, turning back to look at Quentin for a moment before starting up again.

The words were caught in his throat, a simple mix of vowels and consonants that reminded him of his childhood, when he couldn’t get English out and answered in jumbles of rough German and stuttered English.

Taking a deep breath seemed to not work, because the oxygen caught in his lungs and made his heart beat even  _ faster  _ and he could hardly  _ speak  _ and he didn’t know what to-

And then Tony turned to him, eyes wide and imploring, the color of coffee that was brewed just right and Quentin didn’t realize that he was moving to get up until his chair pushed back with a squeak.

Before Tony could get another word out, Quentin grasped his shoulders and held him close, chin resting perfectly onto Tony’s head just like he _ knew _ it would.

Quentin abandoned whatever plan he had had for this, relief rushing through him when Tony didn’t pull away.

Tony closed his eyes, relaxing immediately in the warm hold, feeling his knees go weak. He could hear Quentin’s heart pump wildly, and he swore the man’s arms were shaking.

“You smell good,” He said dumbly, his own arms coming up to wrap around Quentin’s middle.

“You buy my cologne,” came the snarky albeit shaky answer.

Tony leaned all his weight on Quentin, damn-near nuzzling into the man’s sweater with a contented hum, feigning relaxation through the blood rushing through his body and the exhilaration making his heart beat like a drum and the shakiness of his knees.

“Please tell me this is a romantic gesture, I don’t think I can handle it for much longer if this is platonic,” Tony murmured into the fabric of Quentin’s sweater.

Quentin chuckled, and Tony basked in the feeling of the man’s chest vibrating with his laugh.

“Yes,” He answered simply, and Tony sighed in relief, sagging even further in the man’s hold.

Tony allowed himself to bask in Quentin’s warmth for a bit longer before pulling away, hands landing on Quentin’s forearms. He had to crane his neck up to look at Quentin from this close.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked bluntly. Quentin (as predicted) flushed horribly. That wasn’t a no, so Tony grinned wide and went up on his tip-toes (just like he knew he would do).

Quentin bent his neck a bit to accommodate him. Tony felt a rush sweep through him when he finally kissed the man. It was hardly the best kiss he had ever given/received, but the feeling of Quentin’s softly smiling lips on his upped his heartbeat to the max. He felt Quentin’s hand come to rest hesitantly on his hip. One of his own hands strayed to Quentin’s chest, where the man’s heart beat just as quick as Tony’s.

Tony pulled away, with Quentin following his lips like he wanted to do it forever. Tony didn’t mind, hell, he even agreed.

Quentin looked down at him with a tilted head, something akin to awe in those blue eyes of his. His hand became a more comfortable weight on Tony’s hip, and Tony couldn’t help the breathless laugh he gave.

Quentin’s face was pink, along with his neck. Tony played with the fabric under his fingers, feeling Quentin’s heartbeat through the material. 

“So. This. We’re- this isn’t a one-time thing, right?” Tony tried to come off as nonchalant, but his quick words belied his inner panic.

Quentin’s eyes went wide in his own panic. “Do- do you want it to be?” Tony’s heart broke a little, hearing the self-consciousness well up in his voice.

“No!” He said quickly before clearing his throat, “no.”

Quentin nodded, and then pulled Tony in for another hug, resting his chin on top of his head while Tony unabashedly wrapped his arms around Quentin’s trim waist, nuzzling deeper into his warmth.

“This is nice,” He said, eyes fluttering shut when Quentin gave a low answering him in response. He could  _ feel  _ it.

Quentin basked in the feeling of having someone in his arms, the feeling of Tony pressing closer, the feeling of two arms encircling him. It was the most physical contact he’d ever had with  _ anyone,  _ and Quentin felt his lips quirk up, accepting the fact that of  _ course  _ Tony would be the one he would share this with.

After all, Quentin Beck was obsessed with Tony Stark.

And maybe, just maybe, Tony was a little bit obsessed with Quentin Beck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok first of all sorry for the long wait! School's been a total pain recently (possibly because I suck at math) and I wrote like seven versions of this end chapter before settling for this one. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate version of my other stories: Queer Eye: Quentin Beck Edition, and Quentin Beck, Accidental Hero.


End file.
